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| 06:23pm 30/11/2004 |
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Barefoot joy comes softly
(like frostbite is slowly eating up her toes.)
I wonder--
what it feels like. |
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| 09:27pm 29/11/2004 |
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So the poets write about love.
I wanted to say something else. But,
fuck them. |
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| 07:52am 15/11/2004 |
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This is what I woke up to this morning on WUOG and it made me want to get out of bed:
You're a part time lover and a full time friend
The monkey on your back is the latest trend
I don't see what anyone can see in anyone else...but you
I'll kiss you on the brain in the shadow of the train
I'll kiss you all starry eyed my body swingin' from side to side
I don't see what anyone can see in anyone else...but you
Here is the church and here is the steeple
We sure are cute for two ugly people
I don't see what anyone can see in anyone else...but you
Pebbles forgive me, the trees forgive
So why can't you forgive me
I don't see what anyone can see in anyone else...but you
I will find my niche in your car
With my MP3, DVD, rumble pack guitar
I don't see what anyone can see in anyone else...but you
Up up down down left right left right B A start
Just because we use cheats doesn't mean we're not smart
I don't see what anyone can see in anyone else...but you
You are always tryin' to keep it real
I'm in love with how you feel
I don't see what anyone can see in anyone else...but you
We both have shiny happy fits of rage
You want more fans, I want more stage
I don't see what anyone can see im anyone else...but you
Don Quixote was a steel driving man
My name is Adam I'm your biggest fan
I don't see what anyone can see in anyone else...but you
Squinched up your face and did a dance
Shook a little terd out of the bottom of your pants
I don't see what anyone can see in anyone else...but you
but you
--The Moldy Peaches |
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| 04:43pm 01/11/2004 |
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Waiting: November the First, 2004
Oh, you
old crazy Walt--
your voices rings out easily still
over the grassy hillside, in the heart
of the warm south on All Saint's Day.
Here, they say,
it is slow. Change comes and change goes, ebbing
backward in small eddies like the tide. The cold
marches through, begins to burn the leaves, and then decides
to retreat.
You would be proud. I have already spoken,
early, before the day of the dead--
before the day the past will look forward
and into our hearts. Ahead I see only the beginnings
of the touch of Fall.
My ragged voice is in my hair and hands
and outward,
though it is too often too silent and small.
It is my own--
my true, patient song.
Listen, Walt.
You, too
can hear what I must say. |
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| 01:56pm 21/10/2004 |
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What am I?
I am exactly a girl in misshapen, broken bras with ugly hair and no friends. I have no prospects and no one--absolutely no one--has ever taken me seriously in my entire life. |
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| 07:05pm 30/09/2004 |
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On bad days, there is a purple capillary strikingly
in my left cheek. Frowning at it does not make it any more apologetic, nor
stave off the uncouth process of aging. Because
on bad days, it seems impossible to smile when I am nineteen,
and haggard;
tired and ancient before I've begun.
On the bus, coming back heavy from the past, I thought
I was being sketched. Looking straight ahead,
I tried to be something noteworthy. |
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| 02:20pm 30/09/2004 |
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I would sure love believing
In something that's never leaving
Would like to let go the hurting
When everything's so uncertain
You know I tried
To show you what I have inside
Will we laugh at how this all began
When you're an old woman and I'm an old man
Take me wherever you go
Help me forget tomorrow
Love me your best and I know
All of the rest will follow
Love me as well as you know
And everything else will follow
I wouldn't mind pretending
It's something that's never-ending
Would like to believe that someday
We won't be living this way
I know you tried
To show me you were on my side
Could it be that I've already found
The thing that I've been searching the whole world round
Take me wherever you go
Help me forget tomorrow
Love me your best and I know
All of the rest will follow
Love me your best and I know
Everything else will follow
Take me wherever you go
All of the rest will follow
Help me forget tomorrow
All of the rest will follow
Love me as well as you know |
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| 12:46am 30/09/2004 |
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I wanted to leave you
Completely pleased
Sleep drifting above you
Sweetly released
I want to see you smiling
Weak in the knees
I want to see you come, come
Completely pleased
I want to give you something
Priceless and free
And free --
I wanted to leave you
Completely pleased
Sleep drifting above you
Sweetly complete/at peace
I want to see you hazy
Dazed and confused
I want to see you come, come
Completely used up
I want to give you something
Forever and true
And true -- |
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| 10:32am 29/09/2004 |
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Hold me once again, before you let me go.
Let me close my eyes and see the smile that you could not control.
I wanna look into your eyes, let time and space pass me by for just five minutes--
I wish you were my home.
I wish you were my home. |
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| 01:37pm 21/09/2004 |
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Did your dreams die young?
Were they too hard won?
Did you reach too high and fall?
And there is no rest
for the ones God blessed;
and he blessed you best of all.
I finally checked out a couple of Italo Calvino books before work at the library yesterday, but I'm not much in the mood to read them.
I just want to be alone.
I feel so alone. |
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| They might get a little better air if they turned themselves into a cloud-- |
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| 07:50pm 15/09/2004 |
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We were shootin' at a mound of dirt.
Well nothing was broken, nothing was hurt.
But I probably really should have been at work.
But if my freetime's gone, would you promise me this?
That you will please bury me with it?
Please bury me with it!
Well sure as planets come, I know that they end.
And if I'm here when that happens, will you promise me this my friend?
Please bury me with it!
I just don't need none of that Mad Max bullshit.
Well the suit got tight and it split at the seams.
But I kept it out of habit and I kept it really clean.
But if it's getting' faded, if it's runnin' outta thread,
Could you just do this for me my friend?
And please just please bury me with it?
Please bury me with it!
Well we moved to the left and moved to the right.
And sure as hell we stayed out almost every single night.
But if the party's over, if the fun has to end,
could you do this for me my friend?
Would you just please bury me with it?
Please bury me with it!
Good news for people who love bad news.
We've lost the plot and we just can't choose.
We are hummingbirds who are just not willing to move.
And there's good news for people who love bad news.
We are hummingbirds who've lost the plot and we will not move.
We have good news for anyone who loves bad news.
We were aiming for the moon. We were shooting at the stars.
But the kids were just shooting at the busses and the cars.
So don't drink the water, don't you breathe the air.
If it's gotten to that point then I have to declare:
That you please bury me with it!
Please bury me with it!
Well fads they come and fads they go.
And God I love that rock and roll!
Well the point was fast but it was too blunt to miss.
Life handed us a paycheck, we said, "We worked harder than this!"
Please bury me with it!
Please bury me with it!
We are hummingbirds who are just not going to move.
And there's good news for people who love bad news.
We are hummingbirds who've lost the plot and we well not move.
We have great news for anyone who loves bad news. |
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| 02:30pm 08/09/2004 |
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I like this one better.
Now I must away to Pihilosophy. |
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| 10:47am 08/09/2004 |
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You are the sun and moon and stars are you
And I could never run away from you
You try at working out chaotic things
And why, should I believe myself not you?
It's like the world is gonna end so soon
And why should I believe myself?
You, me and everything caught in the fire
I can see me drowning
Caught in the fire. |
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| It's a test, but I believe |
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| 06:14pm 04/09/2004 |
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a kiss is all we need.
From a few days ago:
In my hands you are destiny--
under my fingerprints I capture a slipstream. From you
I pull the singing,
the compulsion that lifts my small pieces and makes them whole.
Underneath the grey weather is your skin. It is summer now,
and salty,
but soon it will be cold (and you will wear that sweater--
that one,
with the maroonish high neck--that you insisted
a "woman's
sweater" and I secretly all but loved the thread
right into my soul);
I know
because in my heart
the care-free dog-days have already passed. |
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| 05:44pm 29/08/2004 |
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i've found a way to make you
i've found a way
a way to make you smile
i read bad poetry
into your machine
i save your messages
just to hear your voice
you always listen carefully
to awkwards rhymes
you always say your name
like i woulden't know it's you
at your most beautiful
i've found a way to make you
i've found a way
a way to make you smile
at my most beautiful
i count your eyelashes secretly
with every one whisper i love you
i let you sleep
i know you're closed eye watching me
listening
i thought i saw a smile
i've found a way to make you
i've found a way
a way to make you smile |
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| I ran my mouth off a bit too much; oh, what did I say? |
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| 11:39am 25/07/2004 |
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Well, you just laughed it off, it was all okay.
Time for a little honesty:
"Your boyfriend is so funny," I
smile and say, "I know."
They've mostly stopped calling. So
if I left, went somewhere distant, and called,
saying "I've
been all over, and nowhere is for me,
nowhere is home,"
no one would throw me a party.
I dreamed that I was committed
and could convince no one that I
was conscious–-especially my mother. She
tells me that even though
I think I am a good person,
I’m not. And I think
well, that's
something.
I know she thinks sometimes
that I was a waste of time to be birthed,
and she tells me:
I'm going to fuck my life up.
So everyday,
I'm thinking about doing it preemptively.
There is a crape myrtle against the window,
picturesque. I could capture it to share–-
but I'm too empty.
"I don't think," I told him,
I don't think about God. You
see, my mother is a bitter woman
and so am I.
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Total emotional disconnect,
I feel alone even when you say
"I love you."
My throat is burning, you're
breaking up–
I'm breaking.
I've been staring out the window,
wondering what they're selling–-
wondering if I can buy
something new to free my soul
and make it fly; like
painted portraits in stained glass,
I've been trapped here
and coloring everything.
Who would want to be, who would want to be such a control freak? |
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| 06:15am 21/06/2004 |
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There are times that I am absolutely convinced that your smile is the most beautiful thing that will ever be. It is slowly transfiguring my life;
teaching me things about power and depth, hunger and eternal endearment. I think
that if I loved you more, it would break me--scatter to the
great, grey spaces of dawn all the things I have built
into a sandcastle of myself.
I am depending on you to first light my mornings and illuminate evenings; set my footsteps on the path of a better quality. It is your name that is written in the sky--an endless
looping of tenuous words, spread over an open, boundless highway of my heart
to the sunset promise of a new tomorrow. |
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| 04:15pm 10/06/2004 |
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My namesake is gone.
It is a lonely feeling. |
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